


The Road Not Taken

by Creej



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Out Of the Box AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-04 06:23:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18337955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creej/pseuds/Creej
Summary: Neal gets on the plane but is he flying off into the happily ever after he dreamed about?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story goes AU from the season one finale.

"You said goodbye to everyone but me. Why?"

"I don't know."

"Yeah you do. Tell me."

"Because you're the only one who could change my mind."

Neal turned his back on his (former) handler and yes, his friend and walked toward the plane where Kate was waiting.

 

Two years later...

 

Peter looked up when a file was dropped on his desk. "What's this?" he asked.

"A case you're familiar with," said the agent. His badge said Interpol.

Peter opened the file and saw a very familiar face staring up at him. Neal Caffrey. He sighed, not surprised. Deep down, he'd known Neal couldn't stay out of the life - not with Kate there egging him on. Probably. "Back at it, I see," he said. "And I suppose you want me to catch him. Again."

"You're the only one who ever did," the agent, Hannigan, said.

Peter closed the file. "Not interested," he said, handing it back.

"You're sure?" Hannigan asked. "We could really use your insights on this."

"I'll tell you everything I know," Peter said."'But I'm not going to chase him."

 

Six months later, Peter heard through the grapevine that Neal Caffrey and Kate Moreau were caught, red handed, stealing a painting from a private collector. He passed on going to the trial, knowing what the result would be. It was his third strike which meant a life sentence, regardless of the deal he and Kate had had with OPR.

 

"Hon? You have a birthday card," Elizabeth said as she sorted through the mail. "Post marked..." Her brows rose. "Sing Sing. It's from Neal."

"Yeah? What does he want?" Peter asked.

"What makes you think he wants something?" Elizabeth asked, opening the card.

"It's Neal," Peter said. "He wants something."

Elizabeth read the short note inside. "He wants a meeting," she said.

Peter let out a humorless laugh. "Of course he does," he said.

"Will you?" Elizabeth asked. She saw his indecision. "Would it hurt anything?"

"He walked away, El," Peter said, his frustration bleeding through. "After everything..."

"I know hon," Elizabeth said sympathetically. "But the chance to have a life with Kate..."

"Yeah, and I'd bet she's the one who dragged him right into this mess," Peter said. "I knew since that boiler room case that she was jerking him around...but he wouldn't see it. I mean, she said she'd cut him loose if she got the music box. If she really loved him why would she do that? I know I wouldn't leave you for anything, no matter how valuable."

"I know hon," Elizabeth said. She sighed. "So will you give him the meeting?"

"Why?" 

"I think you need to tell him how you feel," Elizabeth said. "And he needs to hear it."

 

Peter mulled it over for a few weeks, weighing the pros and cons. He admitted that Neal had done more than disappoint him that day at the airstrip - he'd been hurt that Neal thought so little of their partnership, their friendship, that he could just walk away from it. As he mulled, he requested and got Neal's trial transcripts. One thing that jumped out at him was that the police had gotten an anonymous tip about the heist that Neal and Kate had been busted on then he did some checking into Kate's whereabouts. What he found gave him a vicious sense of satisfaction. In exchange for immunity, Kate had flipped on Neal, racking up multiple charges.

 

Peter stood looking out the visitors' room window, waiting for Neal to be escorted in. He turned, hearing the door open and saw Neal enter, accompanied by a guard. "You can wait outside," he said. "He's not going anywhere." He studied the other man as he took a seat at the concrete table. He looked the same as he did the first time they'd met like this, when Neal had suggested the deal they'd had.

"Peter," Neal said.

"You wanted a meeting, so we're meeting," Peter said.

"Peter..." Neal swallowed, averting his gaze. "I..."

"You went right back to the life," Peter said. "And you know what? It didn't surprise me."

"I noticed it wasn't you on our trail," Neal said. "Why not? I'm sure they asked you."

"They did," Peter confirmed. "Told them I wasn't interested." At Neal's surprised look, he went on. "I didn't chase you Neal because I"d decided you weren't worth my time."

"Peter..."

"No," Peter said angrily. "I gave you a chance, Neal and you just walked away. You got what you wanted - a life with Kate and look where it got you. I wasn't going to waste three _weeks_ of my life hunting you down much less three years. Not again."

"So I guess getting my deal back is off the table," Neal said quietly.

"Not if you can find another agent willing to take you on," Peter said. "And even then, it's highly doubtful. You're a flight risk, Neal. And you've proven you can't stay out of the life."

"But I did!"

"For how long? How long did it take Kate to convince you that a normal, crime free life was just too boring?"

"You never did like her," Neal said.

"And I was right not to," Peter said.

"If it's any consolation, she's in the same situation I am," Neal said.

Peter huffed out a laugh. "No she isn't," he said. "She flipped on you. For immunity."

"She wouldn't."

"She did," Peter said. "I read her interrogation transcripts. She also phoned in the anonymous tip that got you caught."

Neal sat, stunned into silence. "She wouldn't."

"She did," Peter said.

"Why?"

"She know the location of your stash? The current one?"

"She played me?" Neal asked, his disbelief obvious.

"She was playing you the whole time," Peter said. "You asked her, point blank, what Fowler wanted and she wouldn't tell you."

"She didn't know..."

Peter gave an irritated huff. "She told _me_ ," he said. "I asked her to step aside and she named the music box as her price. You know I'm right but you're so damned love struck you won't listen."

"I don't believe you," Neal said, predictably.

Peter shrugged. "You don't have to," he said. "You're still here for life on a third strike."

"But you could get me out," Neal said. "Let me work with you again..."

"No," Peter said. "I'm not going down that road again. I know where it goes. I'm not going to let you make a fool of me again. I gave you a chance at a good life, doing work you were good at and you threw it in my face as soon as Kate crooked her finger at you. I get you out and she comes up with some damsel in distress story, knowing you'll come running to save her...just like last time."

"You're giving up on me?" Neal asked. "You won't give me a second chance?"

"I gave you plenty of chances, Neal," Peter said. "And it made no difference. And yes, I gave up on you two and a half years ago, just like you gave up on me, on what we had. We made a good team but it wasn't the one you wanted, not while Kate was out there, pulling your strings." He straightened from his slouch against the wall. "I'd like to help you Neal," he said. "But you've proven to me that I just can't trust you. Not when Kate's in the picture. And she will be if she finds out you're out."

"I promise I won't..."

"I can't trust your promises either," Peter said. "You're too good a liar. I refuse to get drawn into the drama of Neal Caffrey and Kate Moreau again. I refuse to try and help you when you won't let me. Been there, done that." He sighed. "I'd like to help you," He said. "But I know where this goes. Kate's out there again and you'll start looking for her as soon as you can."

"So that's it?"

"That's it," Peter said. "Make yourself comfortable because this will be your home for the foreseeable future." He shrugged again. "But if you can get another agent, one's who's stupid enough to take you on..."

"You're saying you were stupid?"

"Obviously I was," Peter said. He was silent for a moment. "I tried to help you Neal. You didn't want it. You were too focused on getting Kate and getting back into the life and you didn't give a damn about who you hurt or what bridges you burned." He let out a breath. "Think about that," he said. "I'm going home to my wife."

 

Two weeks later, Neal was escorted to the visitors' room, the same one where Kate had bid him adios before his escape. He breath caught, seeing who was on the other side of the Lexan barrier. Kate.

"I didn't believe it when Peter told me," Neal said. "Why, Kate?"

"It was the only way to get the entire stash," Kate said evenly, almost bored, her gaze dispassionate. "Millions of dollars...why would I want to share?"

"I thought you loved me!" Neal said. "I gave up a good life...friends to be with you!"

"You were always a fool for love, Neal," Kate said, a faint sneer curling her lips. "I knew I could use that...and you fell for my 'I'm in trouble' act just like I knew you would."

Neal sat back. "The money will run out," he said. "And you'll never find someone as good at the game as I am. It took three years for the FBI, for Peter to catch me. Without me, you'll go down in three months."

"No I won't," Kate said. "You taught me well, Neal."

"Maybe, but I didn't teach you everything," Neal said. "Little tricks I learned long before I met you. Tricks that kept me from getting caught. Tricks I didn't think about since they were essentially reflex." He stood. "Goodbye Kate."

"Neal!"

"What?"

"Where's the rest?"

"As if I'd tell you now," Neal said. "But if you can find it, you're more than welcome to it. Guard!"

"I'll ask Moz."

"Don't count on him being able to tell you," Neal said. "I didn't tell him either. Gotta have my secrets, right?" He smirked at her nonplussed expression. "Good luck. You'll need it.

 

"Agent Burke?"

"What is it?"

"This just came for you." The agent stepped into the office and handed Peter an envelope. Peter opened it, recognizing the handwriting immediately.

_Peter_ , the note began. _You were right. Kate used me, played me. So, on the slim chance that she'll be able to track it down, I'm giving up my stash to you. It's not like I'll be able to fence any of it from here. And like you said, I'm inside for life so there's no sense in letting it just sit, gathering dust. I know it won't make up for what I did and I wish I hadn't, now. But you know what they say: Hindsight is 20/20. Just please believe me when I say you're the best friend I ever had, the only one I ever really trusted...and I'm sorry I threw that away, that I disappointed you. I"d do things differently if I could. Neal._

At the bottom of the sheet was an address to a storage facility and a unit number. Peter copied the address and gave it to Jones - he wanted nothing to do with Neal Caffrey any more, not even clearing out his stash.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite his misgivings, Peter gives Neal another chance...but he has one major condition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after Peter's meeting with Neal at the prison.

"I take it the meeting didn't go well," Elizabeth said, seeing Peter's face when he got home.

"About as well as I expected," Peter said, giving her a light kiss.

"You told him Kate flipped on him?" Elizabeth asked. At Peter's nod, she added, "He didn't believe you?"

"Of course not," Peter said dryly as he hung up his jacket.

Elizabeth regarded him a few minutes as he sat with a sigh, seeing what he'd kept hidden for two and a half years. "You miss him," she said.

"I miss who I thought he was," Peter said.

"He _is_ that person, hon," Elizabeth said. "You saw it, I saw it...he's a good man."

"He can be," Peter said. "But with Kate..." He let out a frustrated breath. "He just doesn't _think_ when she's involved. And now he's in for life."

"Unless you get him out again," Elizabeth said almost casually.

"El..."

"He was an asset," Elizabeth said. "It would be a shame to waste that."

"Yeah, it's a waste," Peter said. "But _if_ I get him out - provided I can get it approved - he'll go off the reservation if he thinks she's in some kind of trouble. She played him and he couldn't - or wouldn't - see it."

"If he had proof..." Elizabeth sighed. "Just think about it?"

"I can't go through it again," Peter said. "He burned his bridges without a second thought. All for Kate."

 

Almost despite himself, Peter put out feelers - to Hughes, the Marshals, the DOJ - to see how difficult it would be to get Neal's deal reinstated. To his surprise, there wasn't as much resistance as he'd expected - the Dutchman was a major win and the Bureau acknowledged that Neal had been instrumental in his capture, despite the...creative method used. So the decision was his really. He could dismiss the whole idea or risk getting him out and potentially have Kate throw a spanner in the works.

 

Elizabeth found him sitting in the semi dark, papers spread over the coffee table. Her brows rose, seeing one with the heading _Conditional Release_. "You're thinking about it?" she asked, sitting beside him.

Peter sighed. "God help me, I am," he said.

"But..."

"Kate," Peter said. "She's the wild card in the whole thing. I can't trust her not to try to reel him in again."

 

Four months after his last conversation with Neal, Peter found himself at the prison, waiting for Neal in the same room. But this time, he wasn't empty handed. On the table lay Kate's interrogation tapes and the means to play them. He'd brought them even though he'd gotten Neal's letter and the tip about the cache.

"Peter. You're the last person I expected," Neal said when the guard escorted him in. "Why are you here?"

Unlike last time, Peter took a seat across from him. "Before I say anything, I want you to listen," he said, putting in the CD.

"Kate's interrogation? I don't need to hear it, Peter," Neal said. "I got a visit from her...you got my letter?" At Peter's acknowledgement, he went on. "She told me why she did it. She didn't deny playing me."

"She sang like a canary during her questioning," Peter said. "Every job you two pulled during those two years. Naturally, she gave you credit for masterminding all of them."

"Of course," Neal said. "She's good...just not as good as I am." He leaned back a little. "Is that why you're here? To confirm what I already know?"

"That and to ask you some questions," Peter said. "Why'd she do it? She after your stash?"

"Millions of dollars. Why would she share?' Neal said. "That's what she told me the last time I saw her."

Peter nodded. ""I assume you have others," he said. At Neal's innocent look, he said, "Never mind. I don't want to know." He took a sheaf of papers from his jacket pocket and laid them on the table. "You asked me to reinstate your deal," he said. "And somewhat against my better judgement - and a push from my wife - I put out feelers."

"And?"

"There wasn't as much resistance as I thought there'd be," Peter said. "The Bureau and the DOJ are willing to try it again." He paused. "Bottom line is this: it's my call," he said. "Kate's out there and if I get even the faintest niggling of a suspicion that you're looking for her, the deal's off."

"I won't look for her," Neal said. "She made it perfectly clear we were done."

"And if we get her case? Assuming she hasn't retired? Would you be willing to help bring her down?" Peter asked. It was the question that would make or break the deal for him.

"Kate and I are done," Neal said.

"You didn't answer," Peter said. "If you're not willing to help bring her down if necessary then I leave, you stay here." He paused, seeing Neal's expression harden a little.

"She threw me under the bus, Peter," Neal said. "I think I deserve the chance to return the favor."

Peter passed the papers over to Neal. "Same deal as before. The anklet, two mile radius," he said. "I think June may be willing to let you have the loft again."

"She doesn't know I'm in prison?"

"I haven't talked to her so I don't know," Peter said. "Couldn't hurt to ask." He tapped the last page. "Sign on the dotted line and you're in FBI custody."

"Today?"

"Don't have it with me," Peter said. "It'll be a few days before the Marshals can deliver it." He regarded the man across from him a moment. "You sure you want to do this again? Because I'll be watching you. Closely."

"Got a pen?" Neal asked, holding out a hand.

Peter handed one over and watched as Neal signed with a flourish before handing it and the papers back. "I'll be back with the anklet in no more than a week," he said, returning the papers to his jacket. "If you want, I'll talk to June, explain the situation and see if you can have the loft. If not..."

"The same crappy motel as before?"

"Maybe something a little better," Peter said. "The cost of housing prisoners has gone up...a little."

 

"So you're going to do it," Elizabeth said.

"God help both of us if I've made a mistake," Peter said. "He said he wouldn't look for her but..."

"It's Kate," Elizabeth finished.

"Yeah, it's Kate," Peter said on a sigh.

"But if he knows..."

"He knows," Peter said. "But he's never been able to think straight about her. He knew he'd be walking into a trap the first time I caught him if he went to that storage facility...but he did anyway, just to see her."

"He may surprise you, hon," Elizabeth said. "He has before."

"Yeah, unpleasantly surprised," Peter said.

 

Peter arrived bright and early at the prison, experiencing a sense of deja vu when Neal stepped through the gate, carrying a gym bag over his shoulder. Without being asked, he lifted his pantleg, showing the new anklet clasped around his ankle. "Yes, it chafes...just like I remember," Neal said.

"I was told it's more comfortable than the last one," Peter said, straightening. "You know the drill. Help me close cases, you stay out of prison."

"My accommodations?" Neal asked as the drove back to the city.

"I talked to June," Peter said. "She says the loft is yours if you want it."

"I appreciate it, Peter, I really do," Neal said sincerely. "I appreciate the chance." He sighed, looking out the window. "I was an idiot," he said, half to himself.

"The things we do for love," Peter said.

"10cc? Really Peter?' Neal asked a little sardonically.

Peter shrugged. "Didn't think you'd know that one," he said. "But it's true."

"She was playing me the entire time, wasn't she?" Neal asked.

"I don't know. It's possible she had feelings for you," Peter said. "But she did play you to get the music box...and your cache." He was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry Neal. I really am. I know you loved her."

"You were right," Neal said. "When you told me you'd met with her. You said you saw no concern for me in her eyes."

"And you didn't believe me."

"No, I didn't," Neal said. "I wish I had."

 

June was waiting for them when they arrived at the mansion on Riverside. After giving Neal a kiss on the cheek, she led them up to the loft. "I'll leave you to settle in, dear," she said, giving Neal a fond look. "It's good to have you back."

Neal dropped his bag on the bed and heaved a sigh. "How'd the team react when you told them? I doubt they were thrilled."

Peter rocked his hand back and forth. "Reactions were mixed," he said. "They know how good you are but some think you were an idiot for throwing away the chance to go straight."

"I tried, Peter," Neal said. "I really did. It wasn't all Kate's fault. After a few months, the itch came back. I missed it..."

"So you went back," Peter finished.

"Yeah. And honestly, I really thought - hoped even - that you'd be the one to catch me again."

"You could have come back," Peter said. "No work release, no anklet..." He let out a breath. "I'll leave you to settle in. I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early."

"Give my regards to Elizabeth," Neal said.

 

For the first time in almost three years, Peter stopped by June's on the way to work, finding Neal waiting on the curb, dressed not in one of Byron's Rat Pack suits but a clean pair of khakis and a white button down. He said nothing as Neal got in and pulled out into traffic. "Nervous?" he asked.

"A little," Neal said, a wry grin twisting his mouth at Peter's surprise. "Why deny it?" he asked. "I never had much success fooling you anyway."

"Because I know you so well," Peter said, leaving the _or I thought I did_ unspoken.

 

Fortunately for Neal - and Peter - they were thrown immediately into an art theft/forgery case and Peter found himself (a little unwillingly) falling back into the easy back and forth he'd had with Neal before he'd left. But he admitted to himself that he'd missed it, missed Neal's quick mind, his out of the box thinking, his way of putting the pieces together in unexpected ways, finding clues no one even thought to look for...having someone who could effortlessly keep up with him.

As the resident expert, it fell to Neal to try to discover who the forger was and he spent his first day poring over the painting in the conference room.

"You didn't do it, did you?" Peter asked from the other end of the table.

Neal glanced up from his examination. "No, I didn't," he said. "Not to brag but I'd never be this sloppy. The brush strokes are good but the colors are slightly off, half a shade maybe. Whoever did it hasn't had much practice. They're still a novice at forgery. Theft on the other hand..."

"You think it was just one?"

"Job like this only needs one if they've planned properly," Neal said.

"Any chance they signed it?"

"Possible," Neal said. "That's what I"m looking for. I'll let you know."

Peter gave him a nod and went into his office next door but kept an eye on him. He was glad he did when he saw Neal go very still, saw conflicting emotions chase each other across his expression before settling on resolve mixed with anger. He noticed Neal wasn't surprised to see him watching when he looked up, just beckoned him into the room. "What did you find?" he asked, standing next to Neal.

"Our forger," Neal said. "She signed it. Right here." He held a magnifier to a corner of the canvas, moving out of Peter's way when he bent to look.

"Is that...?"

"It is," Neal said. "You asked me if I'd be willing to help bring her down..."

"And are you?"

"I am," Neal said. "Not because she talked me into going back to the life...that wasn't that hard."

"Then why?"

"Because she used me," Neal said. "She used how I felt about her to get what she wanted then tossed me aside when it would benefit her. I know it smacks of revenge and I'll be honest enough to admit that's part of it." He paused, looking away. "I want her to know she doesn't have that kind of power over me anymore," he said. "I want her to know she can't manipulate me, that I won't let her."

"You think she'll try?"

"I would if I were in her place," Neal said. "She learned all this from me. I know her better than anyone, how she thinks."

Peter leaned on the table. "So how do we catch her?" he asked.

"Same way you caught me the first time," Neal said. "Dangle what she wants in front of her."

"And what does she want?"

Neal shrugged like it was obvious. "My cache," he said. "Her first and only visit to me this last time, she asked where the rest of it is. Of course I didn't tell her..."

"You have more than the one you told me about?"

"Possibly but even if I didn't, she thinks I do," Neal said.

"You'd lie to her," Peter said, sounding unsure, skeptical.

"She lied to me," Neal said. "Turnabout's fair play. All we need is to find out if she's still in New York."

Peter rested a hip on the table, regarding his charge for a few moments. "You have another cache," he said. "You said *Even if I didn't* which tells me you do."

"One or two smaller ones," Neal admitted. "The one I gave you was the largest, the one Kate wanted. The others have stuff that's still in the statute of limitations. They're still hot. Kate gets hold of any of it, you can bust her for possession."

Peter was quiet, thinking. "We'd need to tip her off about the location," he said.

"Moz could drop the word," Neal said.

"He'd do that?"

"He's none to happy with her right now," Neal said. He shrugged a little. "We kept in touch," he said. "He knows what she did."

"He visit you?"

"Once or twice...after Kate," Neal said.

"If you can get hold of him, tell him what we're planning..."

"I'll do that."

 

That evening, Neal stood out on the terrace, looking out over the familiar view, his thoughts on Kate. He'd briefly thought of going over to the Burke's but doubted he'd be welcome, afraid he'd irreparably damaged the friendship he'd had with Peter, that the arrangement they had now would be strictly professional. Kate - and his own choices - had cost him a lot, things more valuable than anything in his caches and that was part of what drove him. He'd see her brought down for her callous betrayal of him. Even though he hadn't listened to the tapes, he knew Peter hadn't lied to him. The mere fact that Kate was free told him all he needed to know. The cops knew she'd been involved in that last theft, the prosecution knew it too. The only way she could have walked was if she flipped on him. She flipped on him so she could have their cache to herself - millions of dollars of art, jewels and cash. And she wanted the rest.

 

It took weeks to set the trap. Moz did his part in getting the word to Kate about Neal's cache and the team kept tabs on her movements...and the file they had on her grew thicker. It wasn't easy since she was more cagey and she gave them the slip more than once.

"She's gotten better," Neal said.

"But she's not as good as you," Peter said. "She's leaving too many clues."

"Misdirects mostly," Neal said. "But she's been sniffing around the storage facility where my cache is."

"We got an agent there, keeping an eye out for her," Peter said. "She'll let us know if Kate makes any inquiries."

 

What she did a few weeks later surprised even Neal. They got word that Kate went to the storage facility with a moving van and proceeded to tell the manager (their undercover agent) that she had a copy of the renter's death certificate and will - his last wishes stating that the contents of the unit go to her. They listened in as the agent questioned her as they drove to the facility. "Unit number?"

"Fifty six," Kate said. "Nick Halden."

"Yes, here it is. You're lucky. That unit is set to go to auction in a few days. May I see your documentation?"

Peter, Neal and their backup arrived as Kate handed them over, careful not to alert her to their presence. Peter directed the other agents to their positions, taking Neal with him to the unit. Parked outside was a nondescript van.

"Okay, we wait here," Peter said as he and Neal rounded the corner, out of sight. "We let her load up then move in."

"Felony theft, possession of stolen property and forgery," Neal said. "That'll put her away for a while."

"You still sure about this?" Bringing her down?" Peter asked.

"Yes Peter, I'm sure," Neal said. He hesitated a little then said, "Just one favor...let me talk to her." He saw the agent's indecision, his concern and knew what prompted it. "I'm not going to blow the operation," he said. "Call it schadenfreude."

"All right," Peter said after a moment. "But if I see even a hint..."

"I know," Neal said.

Minutes later, they heard the screech of the door as it was opened then the van as it was backed into place.

"Anything in there that she can't fit into the van?" Peter asked.

"No, it's all very...portable," Neal said. "Five or six paintings, a few Grecian and Roman antiquities, a suitcase with cash and some jewels."

"And all still hot?"

"Every last item," Neal said.

As they talked, Kate finished emptying the unit and closed the door, tossing the lock into the van. With a look at Peter, Neal broke cover and was standing by the driver's side door when Kate rounded the vehicle.

"Neal..." Kate said, startled.

"Kate."

"What are you doing here? I thought..."

"That I was in prison? Yeah, I was," Neal said, leaning against the van door. "Not the first time I've broken out of Supermax...and for much the same reason." He paused, regarding her. "So...you found it."

"Wasn't easy," Kate said.

"You know I don't do anything easy," Neal said. He tapped the side of the van. "Get everything?"

"Yeah," Kate said then hesitated, turning hopeful blue eyes up to him. "You know...there's enough here for us to go anywhere...out of the country, outside the jurisdiction of the FBI, the Marshals..." She paused. "What do you say?"

Neal stopped himself from tensing when Kate ran her hand up his arm and around his neck, allowed her to pull his head down. "I say..." he said, taking her hands. "You have a lot of nerve asking me that. Either that or you think I'm an idiot. I know you flipped on me - it was the only way you could have walked." He smirked at her dumbfounded expression. "I heard the tapes, Kate," he said. "So don't deny it. And you won't be able to play me anymore" He looked over her shoulder and saw Peter approach. "All yours," he said, stepping away.

"Neal?"

"Kate Moreau, you're under arrest," Peter said, snapping the cuffs on securely.

"You bastard!" Kate spit at Neal. "You lied! You said you escaped!"

"For a given definition," Neal said. "And don't talk to me about lying. How long were you lying to me? How long were you _playing_ me? I loved you...and you _used_ me."

Peter handed Kate off to another agent then opened the back of the van. "Let's see what we have here," he said. He gestured for Neal to start unloading it. At Neal's startled look he said, "You're the expert. Need to know what's here."

Neal studied his handler, putting the pieces together. His fingerprints were all over the items...and it could be explained by his handling them as he identified each piece. Kate's would be as well and the only explanation would be that she was the one that had stolen them. "You sure?"

"I'm sure," Peter said. "So, get to work."

"Thank you," Neal said, hoping Peter would understand everything he was being thanked for - being his friend, getting him out of prison...for another chance. At Peter's nod, he smiled and pulled out the first paining. "Okay..."


End file.
